Shutter (2008)

Directed by Masayuki Ochiai
Written by Luke Dawson

Rated PG-13 for terror, disturbing images, sexual content and language.

"Shutter" is one in a long line of recent Hollywood remakes of Asian horror films. Though I haven't seen the original "Shutter" (2004, Thailand), I feel like the American remake is a respectable addition to the "Asian horror remake" genre. Asian horror fans will appreciate the frequent homages to the "classic" Asian horror films, most notably "The Ring" and "The Grudge". Beautifully photographed and well-acted, "Shutter" is more than just another horror rehash.

The story starts with the wedding of Benjamin and Jane Shaw (Joshua Jackson and Rachael Taylor). While Joshua Jackson isn't my top pick for a horror lead, he does well enough as a newlywed photographer with a dark past. Rachael Taylor is pitch-perfect as the "blond Asian horror remake survivor girl", joining the proud ranks of fellow "survivor girls" Sarah Michelle Gellar ("The Grudge") and Naomi Watts ("The Ring"). Taylor is beautiful and vulnerable as a new bride being called away to Japan for her husband's work.

In the car on the way to their Japanese honeymoon, Jane accidentally hits a strange woman who appears suddenly in the road. Jane loses control of the car and it crashes. As she's sitting in the wrecked car, Jane sees the woman she hit sit up and look at her creepily. By the time the police and ambulance have arrived, there's no sign of the strange woman, and no evidence that she was ever there.

Disturbed by the experience, Jane tries to enjoy her honeymoon but is still haunted by the image of the girl on the road. Ben has been suffering back pains since the car wreck, but is otherwise no worse for the wear. He starts his job at a big Japanese company where everyone seems to know and like him. Ben has worked in Japan previously, though Jane is visiting for the first time. Jane is a little uneasy about how friendly Ben is with his female Japanese co-workers, especially his sultry and aptly-named secretary Yoko. Ben also has two crass, womanizing male coworkers named Bruno and Adam that immediately make Jane uncomfortable.

While Ben sets to work on a big Fashion photo shoot, Jane shows herself around the city. Disturbed by some phantom images on her honeymoon photos, Jane has Yoko take her to the publisher of a "spirit photography" magazine. Yoko explains that the Japanese are very interested in supernatural phenomenon. While most "spirit photos" are faked using computer editing effects, some are thought to be the result of actual spirit activity. Yoko's friend tells Jane that Polaroids can't be faked. The simple shutter action and self-developing format make it impossible to insert an image artificially into a Polaroid picture, therefore spirit images on Polaroid film are considered to be authentic. Back at the fashion shoot, Ben is having problems with phantom images too. He thinks he sees a girl on the photo set, but when he looks again she's gone. When the film from the shoot is developed, Ben finds that every photo has been ruined by faded ghostly images. Ben assumes that the camera must have been damaged by the car crash, but Jane suspects something darker is at play.

Jane notices that in the photos from the fashion shoot, all of the phantom images point to a certain corner office in the building Ben works in. Borrowing a Polaroid camera from Yoko, Jane sneaks into the building to look for the dead girl. The office in question turns out to be the "International Office", where Ben, Bruno and Adam work. Jane uses the Polaroid to "scan" the room for the ghostly girl. When she gets a glimpse of the ghost, Jane panics and starts to run out of the office, but a picture falls off of the wall, startling her. It's a group picture of several of the International Office's employees, including the ghostly girl whose name Jane learns is Megumi Tanaka. On the back of the photo is a stamp that reads "Photo Taken by Benjamin Shaw".

Jane is furious to discover that Ben had been lying about knowing Megumi. He reveals that she is actually his ex-girlfriend. They had been dating steadily for a while when Ben was in Japan several years ago, and when he decided to break it off, she became depressed and started stalking him. Ben says that he asked Adam and Bruno to talk to Megumi about it and that he hasn't seen her since. When Adam and Bruno both die mysterious, gruesome deaths, Ben worries that he's next. Newly armed with the identity of their phantom stalker, Jane and Ben rush to Megumi's abandoned apartment to find out what happened to the intense, quiet girl.

I give "Shutter" an 8/10. It's too derivative of other Asian horror films to be a truly great film, but it follows the formula lovingly. A few instances of noticeably computer-generated effects brought the overall visual quality down, but most of the film is beautifully shot and well-edited. I particularly enjoyed the twist at the end, in which the true reason for Megumi's wrath is revealed. The end also features one image that is both original and creepy-as-hell (bonus points if you post a comment that describes the scene I'm talking about). Of course I use the term "original" loosely, as "Shutter" is a remake itself. All-in-all, this fine contribution to the remake genre makes me yearn to watch the original Thai "Shutter" (review to come?).













I also recommend:

I Bury the Living (1958)

Directed by Albert Band
Written by Louis Garfinkle

Unrated

"I Bury the Living" was a pleasant surprise. In spite of the cheesy title and sensationalized movie poster, "I Bury the Living" actually turned out to be a surprisingly modern thinking-man's (or woman's) horror film.

Richard Boone stars as Robert Kraft, a department store owner whose business interests place him next in line to be the chairperson for the Immortal Hills Cemetery.  Though he doesn't want the position, Bob quickly finds himself being shown around the Cemetery manager's shack by the thick-brogued Scotsman groundskeeper Andy McKee (Theodore Bikel).

Bikel and Boone as Andy McKee and Robert Kraft (left to right)

Andy shows Bob around the groundkeeper's hut. The two key fixtures here are a heater that doesn't work and a creepy wall-mounted map of the cemetery grounds. Andy explains that the plots with white pins stuck in them on the map indicate people who have reserved grave plots but are still living, while the black pins denote graves whose owners have died and been buried. As they are talking, a couple of young newlyweds come to buy a pair of adjoining plots. The groom explains that his inheritance will only pay out after he's bought a plot each for himself and his wife at Immortal Hills Cemetery, which I personally thought was an oddly morbid stipulation. Robert sells them the plots and puts some pins in the map to reserve their plots for them, but he accidentally marks them with black pins instead of white.

When Robert receives word a few days later that the young couple has died in a car crash, he begins to suspect that the map has some kind of supernatural powers. Half-disbelieving, he sticks a black pin at random into one of the plots on the map, removing the white pin that had been there before. When the owner of this plot turns up dead too, Robert becomes convinced that there is some kind of dark sympathetic magic at play.

Robert tries to tell his story to the cops, who receive it with cynicism and disbelief. The police are convinced that Kraft is just superstitious and that the deaths are coincidental. They cannot claim wrongful death without any evidence of such. Robert tries to tell his coworkers on the board at his department store about the map, but they tell him he's just paranoid. In order to put his mind at rest, Kraft's coworkers arrange a "test" of the map's powers. They choose a random person who has a plot at Immortal Hills, and get Kraft to replace the white pin with a black one. The board members promise that if anything happens to the owner of the plot, Kraft can resign as chairperson at the cemetery with no questions asked.

Of course something DOES happen to the man in question, but Kraft is beginning to realize that the map can't be killing people on it's own. Some of the Kraft Department Store board members have been chairpersons for the cemetery before Robert, and they reported using the wrong pin color on the map many times with no mishap. Robert begins to suspect that it is not just the map that is killing people, but that something dark within himself is turning the map into a deadly weapon.

Kraft's fellow board members tell him that he can resign if he wants to, but now Robert is too obsessed with the map and his dark powers to back out. He insists that he stay at the cemetery, so that no one else will use the murderous map. Though they are uneasy about the most recent death, the other board members propose a final test. Robert will place black pins in the plots of his fellow board members, including his uncle George, to prove once and for all that the curse isn't real. Robert protests, knowing that the black pins could mean death for his coworkers, but they insist. When all three men die, one by one, Robert is left the sole surviving member of the board.

At this point, enough people have died that even the police are willing to entertain Kraft's outlandish theory. They bring their own test to Robert: Put a black pin in the map on the plot of someone who is young, healthy, and currently in France. Robert tells the police plainly that to do so would mean the man's death. They accept responsibility for any consequences of their test, and force Robert to pin the plot. They reason that the other deaths all occurred in an isolated area, and that a death so far away would establish the range of the map's "powers". After doing the deed, Kraft calls Paris to talk to the man, only to be told by his wife that he's passed away.

At this point, Kraft's mental disorientation begins to be reflected in the editing. Stylish transitions and surprisingly modern editing techniques herald in Kraft's mental breakdown. The map seems to grow and distort, nearly filling Kraft's office. As he stares at the map, Robert realizes that if he has the power to take lives with the black pins, he should also be able to reverse the process with the white ones. Robert replaces all of the black pins of the people who'd died with white ones, and then lights a fire in the middle of the room and locks himself inside. But the fire burns out without catching the building ablaze, and Kraft suffers some smoke-inhalation, but is otherwise unharmed. Rushing out to the graves he'd marked, Robert is horrified and amazed to discover the graves empty.

 

Richard Boone at first struck me as a rather boring choice for the lead, but as the film progressed, he performed some powerful scenes that gradually earned him my respect. Theodore Bikel lays on the thickest Scottish accent I've ever heard, but gives an overall good performance as the disgruntled groundskeeper. I was very impressed with the way this film took full advantage of it's catchy premise. Everyone who learns of the map's power feels the need to test it for themselves, each "test" resulting inevitably in a death. The idea of a supernatural killing tool falling into the hands of a normal guy reminds me a lot of the manga/anime series "Deathnote", in which a smart high-schooler finds a notebook which allows him to kill anyone just by writing their name in it. Like "Deathnote", "I Bury the Living" takes a simple premise and then systematically explores all the different possibilities that this premise allows for. While the deaths in "I Bury the Living" are eventually found to be non-supernatural in origin, the dark psychology behind Kraft's assumption of guilt, and his hallucinatory descent into madness are what I found fascinating about this film.

I give "I Bury the Living" a 9/10. It is a surprisingly well-done b-movie that is in many ways ahead of it's time. Many of the transitions and editing techniques are so modern and stylized I'm surprised this film wasn't considered for any visual editing awards. The film features fine acting all around (with an extra pat on the back to Robert Boone) and the music is appropriately moody. For an evening of thrilling fun, watch "I Bury the Living" with a friend or two and a six-pack of good beer.













I also recommend:

Jess Franco's "Count Dracula" (1970)

aka "Nachts, wenn Dracula erwacht (Germany)", "Les Nuits De Dracula" (France)

Directed by Jesus Franco
Written by Dietmar Behnke and Jesus Franco

Rated PG for implied violence and disturbing imagery.

Jess Franco's "Count Dracula" is a special kind of vampire movie. For one, it's the last portrayal of Dracula by longtime Hammer Horror film star Christopher Lee ("the Horror of Dracula", "Dracula Has Risen from the Grave", "Drink the Blood of Dracula", "Dracula A.D.1972", "The Satanic Rites of Dracula" and others). Though Franco's "Count Dracula" wasn't produced by Hammer, the directer lured Lee back to the role with the promise that, for once, this Dracula film would be a faithful adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel. While there are a few significant deviations from the plot of the novel, overall Franco's "Count Dracula" is the closest film adaptation to Stoker's original novel.

Christopher Lee in "the Horror of Dracula" and Franco's "Count Dracula" (left to right)

One of the biggest differences between "Count Dracula" and other Dracula movies is that Dracula appears old, grey-haired and mustached, as he is described in Bram Stoker's book. Bela Lugosi's heavy-accented, clean-shaven, youthful interpretation of Dracula had been so deeply engrained in our cultural consciousness that it took forty years for Stoker's original vision of Dracula to make it to the big screen.

 

Dracula welcomes Johnathon Harker (Fred Williams) to his secluded castle to go over documents pertaining to Dracula's purchase of a large London estate. Harker quickly notices something is not quite right at castle Dracula. The count looks suspiciously like the shrouded coachman who drove Harker's carriage to the castle. By the time Dracula gives his "...children of the night. What music they make..." speech, it's safe to say that Harker is majorly creeped out. "Count Dracula" includes the often passed-over part of the story that deals with Harker's stay in Dracula's castle. This includes a sequence with three hot female vampires who live with Dracula at his castle (Dracula always has multiple ladies. It's just how he rolls.), and a scene of Harker escaping his locked room by climbing out a window on a narrow ledge. Both scenes are very cinematic and intense in the novel, but they're usually discarded in film adaptations. After finding Dracula sleeping in his coffin, Johnathon takes a panic-fueled dive out of a window, reawakening in Van Helsing's Hospital in London (In the book, he's rescued by some Swiss nuns and nursed back to health, THEN sent back to England).

Back in London, Harker's wife Mina hopes for his hasty recovery. Meanwhile, her best friend Lucy (pictured above) begins to have strange nightly visitations. She appears anemic, as though her blood is being drained away, and in spite of major blood transfusions and all the care Dr. Seward can provide, Lucy slips gradually away, finally dying of blood loss. When local children start disappearing, Dr. Van Helsing begins to suspect vampirism. He leads Harker and friends to the cemetery, where they find Lucy very much undead, and they commence with the classic vampire-staking scene.

Meanwhile, back at the sanitarium, a patient named Renfield collects flies and spiders, obsessed with taking "lives". Renfield (played by the legendary Klaus Kinski, who also played Nosferatu in Warner Herzog's "Nosferatu  the Vampyre") is reputed to have lost his mind in the same Carpathian mountains where Dracula's castle lies. Kinski's performance in "Count Dracula" is spot-on. It's a shame that Renfield is a relatively minor character, but Kinski uses every second of screen-time as a canvas for his performance art. 

Kinski as Renfield in "Count Dracula" and as Nosferatu in "Nosferatu the Vampyre"

Johnathon, Dr. Seward, Van Helsing and Sir Quincy Morris (whose part in the Dracula legacy is harshly abridged in this film adaptation) regroup and put their efforts into Dracula's complete destruction. Unfortunately for them, he's already began to visit Harker's wife Mina in the night. Will they kill Dracula before he kills Mina?

The DVD transfer of the film is pretty good. A particularly neat special feature is an audio track of Christopher Lee reading Bram Stoker's "Dracula". I haven't listened to it yet, but I'm psyched that someone sat Christopher Lee down and got him to read "Dracula" on tape. Other bonuses include subtitles for the hearing impaired (which I always appreciate), as well as a featurette on Jess Franco and an essay on Soledad Miranda.

I give "Count Dracula" an 8/10. The film has a lot of technical flaws. For instance, many of the shots look as if they were done by a cameraman with Parkinson's disease. There are several unnecessary uses of the zoom effect. Also, all of the bats and spiders in the film are VERY clearly fake. But for all of this, the film maintains a certain rustic charm. Though there are several marked deviations from Bram Stoker's novel, it maintains the Gothic feel of the novel, and is by far the most faithful film adaptation of "Dracula" I've seen. The biggest highlights for me were Christopher Lee doing his "bloodshot eye" Dracula face (which looks like it hurts, and is a call-back to his Hammer Horror Dracula films), Kinski as Renfield throwing himself out a window, and the very attractive Maria Rohm and Soledad Miranda as Mina and Lucy. If you're going to be lame and try to wuss out of reading Bram Stoker's "Dracula" (which is really an amazing novel), this is as close as you're going to get in terms of film adaptations. A real treat for fans of pre-Twilight vampire films.













I also recommend:

Shadow of the Vampire (2000)

Directed by E. Elias Merhige
Written by Steven Katz

Rated R for some sexuality, drug content, violence and language.

"Shadow of the Vampire" is a historical fiction based on the premise that Max Schreck, the actor famous for portraying the titular character in F.W. Murnau's classic silent vampire film "Nosferatu" is actually a vampire himself. In addition to being a thrilling historical horror, "Shadow..." is also a cutting commentary on realism and the art of filmmaking.

"Shadow..." stars John Malkovich as F.W. Murnau, the brilliant but haunted director of "Nosferatu". He's so devoted to creating a lasting work of art that he is willing to sacrifice his actors and his soul to have a real vampire play the titular role.

   Max Schreck in "Nosferatu" (1922)           Dafoe as Schreck in "Shadow..." (2000)

Willem Dafoe was nominated for the "Best Supporting Actor" Oscar for his performance of a vampiric Max Schreck, and rightly so. While Defoe isn't a perfect double for the real Max Schreck, his acting skill and facial gymnastics make him every bit as creepy. The film crew is amused but perplexed by Schreck, who insists on only appearing at night and in full make-up. Murnau introduces Schreck as "the ultimate method actor," explaining that he should be referred to by his character's name, "Count Orlock" for the rest of the production.

"Shadow of the Vampire" is an overwhelming success at faithfully recreating the look and feel of scenes from "Nosferatu". It also takes us behind the scenes to see the everyday logistics of making a film. Murnau is set upon by demanding producers, actors and even crew members, each with their own concerns and opinions. He's even plagued by the widow of Bram Stoker, who was suing him for his blatant and shameless appropriation of her husband's book "Dracula". While "Shadow..." clearly takes liberties with historical fact, it does incorporate many real historical elements that were involved with the making of "Nosferatu". For instance, Stoker's widow really did sue Murnau for making "Nosferatu".

Things get even harder for Murnau when cast and crew members begin to turn up dead. Murnau scolds Schreck, insisting that he do nothing to hurt the production, but Schreck is clearly a force of nature that Murnau can't hope to contain. The shooting of the film continues, building towards Schreck's climactic scene with Greta Schroeder (Catherine McCormack), a silver-screen "it" girl, who Schreck has already developed a blood-lust for.

When only a few core crew members are left, Murnau reveals to the survivors that there is no Max Schreck, that Murnau found "Count Orlock" in the very abandoned castle they are using as a set. With only the final scene to shoot, the crew decides to continue shooting with "Schreck", even though it will mean the death of the leading lady.

I give "Shadow of the Vampire" a 10/10. It's a beautifully-shot modern reinterpretation of an already great classic horror film. Dafoe and Malkovich perform to their usual high standard of excellence, and the supporting cast is also quite talented. A perfect companion film to "Nosferatu", "Shadow..." deconstructs filmmaking and vampirism to the point that you begin to see similarities between the two. Watch "Nosferatu" and "Shadow..." together for maximum effect. (Scroll to bottom of review to view "Nosferatu" in a streaming online video player)













I also recommend:

Tower of Evil (1972)

Directed by Jim O'Connolly
Written by George Baxt and Jim O'Connolly

Rated R for bloody violence and lots of nudity.

"Tower of Evil" is part of a British Horror 4-Film Box Set I recently purchased. Other films in the set include "Curse of the Voodoo", "Horror Hospital", and "Inseminoid" (review still to come).

I've read a few other reviews of "Tower of Evil" while looking for good screenshots, and found a wide divergence of reactions to the film. People either love it or hate it. I fell somewhere in between. I feel like there are some promising elements in "Tower of Evil" that were never fully fleshed out. Perhaps it's due for a re-make?

"Tower of Evil" is what John Carpenter's "The Fog" would have been if it had been made by pervy British hippies on a shoestring budget. During the opening credits, the "helicopter shot" of a lighthouse is clearly just a camera tracking around a shoddily-constructed model of a lighthouse. I'm not against using models, but if you're going to try and con a theater-full of people into believing your model is a real building, it had better be a damned good model.

Through the fog, we see two fishermen sailing towards the lighthouse. They have a brief, cryptic conversation about how they need to do something about the island, and it's long overdue. Upon arriving, they are shocked to find a nude male body lying facedown in a puddle being fed on by carrion crab. They proceed to the main building and discover a man in a butterfly shirt impaled on the wall with a large, golden scepter of some sort. You may recognize this actor (Robin Askwith) as Jason Jones from "Horror Hospital".

As they proceed through the building, the fishermen find a naked woman, with her hair covering her face, lying dead on the floor. They try to brush the hair out of her face, but her head falls off entirely and rolls down the stairs. The older of the two fishermen opens a closet to discover a nude, crazy girl (Candace Glendenning) who promptly stabs him with a sharp stick, killing him. She runs naked in the fog for a bit and then gets conked on the head by the other fisherman.

The police bring the crazy naked lady to the mainland for questioning, a task which is made more difficult by the fact that she's slipped into some kind of catatonia. Luckily, Dr. Simpson has a psychedelic seizure-inducing light show that reputedly reactivates dormant minds long enough to ask them a few questions. While psychology in film is seldom very true to life, this arrangement is particularly unbelievable. I'm guessing that a significant portion of the budget for this film was spent on hallucinogens. "A bank of colored lights that flashes in pretty patterns? Groovy! That sounds pretty scientific to me!"

The treatment miraculously works, triggering a series of disconnected memories from the girl, whose name we discover is Penny Read. Her flashbacks reveal that she had been on the island with her boyfriend and two other hippie teens. Penny's female friend has bad vibes about the island, but the others ignore her. They smoke grass and walk around naked in true "free love" spirit until they are killed off one by one by a man with long fingernails who appears to be smeared with his own excrement. At this point, Penny begins to have some kind of seizure and they have to turn Dr. Simpson's Funkadelic Groove Machine off for a while to let her rest.

Meanwhile, an expedition to the island has been mounted by some archeological folks who are looking for a hidden Phoenecian treasure trove. They believe the golden scepter that they found is one of many treasures buried in a tomb somewhere on the island. A private detective, Evan Brent (played by Bryant Haliday of "Curse of the Voodoo" and "Devil Doll") accompanies them to find out who was responsible for the killings. 

Bryant Haliday as "The Great Vorelli" in "Devil Doll" (1964).

Now Bryant is normally a pretty good b-movie actor. The previous movies I'd seen of his were both black and white, and I was saddened to see that he didn't transition to color very gracefully. His face, which is pock-marked and blotchy, looked great in black and white. In color, Haliday looks like an overcooked sausage. His role in this movie is too small to really offer much opportunity to amaze us with his acting skills. For Haliday at his strongest and most intense, check out "Devil Doll".

 Evan Brent (Haliday) and Brom (Gary Hamilton) on the way to the island. 

The archeologists who accompany Brent to the island are the worst possible teammates for a dangerous expedition. They consist of two men and two women who have nearly all had romantic relationships or slept with one another. The bitterness between the four makes for funny dialogue, but they're ultimately pretty poor characters. On their way in, they remark that there are no gulls or birds of any kind on the island (a clever cover for the fact that most of the "island" footage is clearly shot in a studio, where there would be no birds).

The two ladyfolk archeologists are both shagadelic, and tease the boys mercilessly with their wiles. In the meantime, Evan Brent reveals that he believes there to be a system of caves underneath the island that are the probably resting spot of the treasure. The treasure is guarded by a statue of Baal, a god who the Phonecians worshipped with orgies and blood sacrifices. Unfortunately, Saul, the former lighthouse keeper, is also somewhere in the caves under the island. You see he's gone totally insane following the deaths of his wife and son, and now lives in squalor, attacking anyone who sets foot on the island. It is implied that Baal is somehow connected to Saul's craziness and the island's abnormally high fatality rate in general, but a clear connection is never drawn.

And so the stage is set for what can only be a very silly finale. I won't give away too much about the ending, but the film stays fairly true to the classic slasher film formula. What it lacks in coherence and quality writing, "Tower of Evil" makes up in bloody horror and gratuitous nudity.

I'd give "Tower of Evil" a 6/10, which I'm sure some would say is a generous rating. It's a film with a lot of great elements that was just put together in a less-than-ideal manner. The pacing, the acting and the low production value really robbed this movie of being what it could have been. There are some truly frightening images in the film (like a really creepy family portrait of Saul with his wife and baby) that periodically renew one's interest in the film interspersed with overlong scenes of badly written (and acted) dialogue. Overall, I'd steer clear if you're a casual horror fan, and check out the campy fun of "The Satanic Rites of Dracula" or "Horror Hospital" instead. If you're a brit-horror nut, it may be time to take your own trip to the "Tower of Evil".













I also recommend:

Horror Hospital (1973)

Directed by Antony Balch
Written by Antony Balch and Alan Watson

Rated R for violence and nudity.

"Horror Hospital" is part of a British Horror four movie box set I recently purchased. Other films in the set include "Curse of the Voodoo", "Inseminoid" and "Tower of Evil" (reviews still to come).

"Horror Hospital" stars Michael Gough as the demented Dr. Storm, who runs a health resort/hospital that "cures" its patients by lobotomizing them, turning them into brain-dead zombies. Gough is a veteran actor and has been in countless movies. Most notably, Gough was Bruce Wayne's butler Alfred in the Batman films of the 80's and 90's. While Gough's performance in "Horror Hospital" is nothing particularly special, it is interesting to see such a skilled actor in such a ridiculous b-movie.

The film opens with Dr. Storm sitting in an idling limousine with his midget servant, Frederick. As we watch, a young man and woman with bandaged, bleeding heads runs out of the woods. Dr. Storm guns the limo, pursuing them. On Dr. Storm's command, Frederick pulls a lever that causes a large blade to jut out of the side of the limo at neck-level, instantly decapitating the two escapees and catching their heads in a conveniently-placed canvas sack. That's right, folks; a decapitating limousine, the new standard of excellence for wealthy sociopaths.

Jump to London, where Jason Jones (Robin Askwith) sits dejectedly in a smokey night club. Jason looks like a mean, British, hippie version of Mark Hamill. He gets into a brief fistfight with a transvestite over a song that he says the tranny's band stole from him. When the tranny beats him (it's embarrassing to be overpowered by a man in a curly platinum wig and lipstick), Jason finds a group of his friends to comfort him. One of Jason's friends looks like an evil John Lennon. If you watch the film, you'll know who I mean. To make a long story short (too late for that) Jason's friends suggest he goes on a "hairy holiday" they see advertised through a travel agency. Jason agrees he needs some time away from the music scene, and embarks for a holiday in the British countryside.

On the train, Jason meets Judy (Vanessa Shaw), a quiet girl who he clumsily attempts to charm ("Don't worry. I'm not going to rape you."). Oddly enough, Jason's abrasive personality apparently rubs Judy the right way. Realizing they're going to the same place, they become travel companions.

When they arrive at Storm's hospital, they sit down to eat dinner with dozens of other young hippies who have already received the "Storm" treatment. They are pale, silent and expressionless, and each sports a fresh surgery scar on their left temple. Jason and Judy are immediately put off by the hospital and its catatonic patients, but Judy's creepy Aunt Harris (who is also Dr. Storm's assistant) tells them the hospital grounds are already closed for the evening and there's no way out. Jason and Judy decide to stay the night and make the best of it. In classic 70's horror movie style, making the best of it means having sex. Lots of sex. Afterwards, the pair decide to snoop around the hospital grounds a bit, and are horrified to discover that Dr. Storm is actually lobotomizing his patients to make them thoughtless drones.

As Jason and Judy struggle to find a way out of the hospital, bodies begin piling up. The travel agent who referred Jason to Dr. Storm wants more money for his services, so Storm has him decapitated. Aunt Judy tells Storm she won't help him with any more demented surgeries, and she gets attacked by a giant, melting flesh-monster. It seems anyone who crosses Storm comes to a bad end. He even has an army of ineffectual, unarmed guards in helmets who look like gay motorcycle enthusiasts. Dr. Storm's "Storm troopers" can't have been chosen for their strength, because they are constantly being overpowered by weak-looking hippie teens. Good thing they were wearing their helmets.

Jason and Judy are soon joined by Abraham (Kurt Christian), who is looking for his runaway girlfriend Millie. Unfortunately for Abraham, Millie has already received Dr. Storm's treatment, and is already a mindless slave. Terrified and desperate to escape, the three hippies make their way through Dr. Storm's hospital of horrors, discovering along the way the terrible secret behind Storm's psychotic surgeries

I give "Horror Hospital" a 7.5/10. I should say right up front that "Horror Hospital" is a terrible movie. If you're looking for a cinematic masterpiece, look elsewhere. Having said that, it's (perhaps unintentionally) one of the funniest horror movies I've ever seen. From the decapitation limo to Frederick the creepy midget, there's no lack of campy fun. There are also plenty of decent nude scenes (even some rare 70's male nudity) for discerning pervs and pervettes. While the story is patently ridiculous, there are actually some genuinely creepy images in this film, and the cinematography is at times surprisingly good. Watch this film with a six-pack of cheap beer and friends who appreciate low-brow humor.













I also recommend:

White Dog (1982)

Directed by Samuel Fuller
Written by Samuel Fuller and Romain Gary

Rated PG for violence.

"White Dog" was initially shunned when it was released in the 80's. The story was too racially charged for the times, and the general viewing public seemed to mistake social commentary on racism for racism itself. I was initially drawn to this film both because of the controversy surrounding it's original release, and because I'd seen Sam Fuller's "Pickup on South Street" (1953), a black and white noir about stolen microfilm and communist spies and was curious if his later work was as good. I found "White Dog" to be even better than "Pickup...", though Fuller's strong sense of visual composition is present in both.

"White Dog" opens with Julie, a young actress (played by Kristy McNichol) hitting a white German Shepherd with her car on a winding road in the California hills. Julie feels terrible and takes the big dog in, even paying his expensive vet bills to keep him from being put to sleep at the pound as an abandoned animal. Julie's interaction with the giant dog is adorable. We see her nurse him back to health with playful affection. The happy dog and owner's peace is shattered when Julie is attacked in her home one night by a rapist. Before she is harmed, the dog mauls the rapist and pins him down until the police arrive. In one of the film's darkly funny but also sad moments, the cop who arrests the rapist says: "That's the same damn rapist I caught last year!"

Julie appreciates the dog more than ever now that he's saved her from the rapist. Even Julie's actor boyfriend feels better having the dog to look after Julie in her secluded house. When the dog follows a rabbit off Julie's property and makes his way to the city, we begin to see another side of the otherwise adorable and heroic pup. The dog attacks an African-American street-sweeper operator, causing him to crash the street sweeper into a storefront, killing him. When the dog returns to Julie covered in blood, she assumes he merely got into a scuffle with another dog and lovingly washes him off, blissfully unaware of his dark secret.

When (for some unknown reason I can't fathom) Julie takes the dog with her to an acting gig, the dog attacks Julie's friend, a black actress, hospitalizing her. This scene also includes a great film in-joke about the "flicker" effect caused by using a camera and projector with different frame-rates looking French and artistic. But really, I suppose the most important part of this scene is Julie's realization that the dog she's taken in and grown fond of is a trained attack dog.

Desperate to find a cure for her dog's attack training, Julie takes the dog to an animal training facility that trains a variety of exotic animals to act for films and commercials. Here she finds a man named Keys (Paul Winfield) who has experience reconditioning attack dogs and is the best in his field. When the dog tries to attack one of the black men working at the compound, Keys tells Julie: "You've got yourself a white dog." He explains that the term is not merely a reference to the dog's color, but that a "white dog" is a dog that racists have trained to attack and kill blacks.

Perhaps the most frightening part of "White Dog" is the fact that it's based on a true story. Romain Gary's short story is based on the experience of his wife Jean Seberg, who found a large dog that seemed friendly and playful. When she took it home, it attacked her black gardener. She confined it to the backyard, but it got out and attacked black men on two other occasions. Only after the third time did she realize that someone had trained the dog to attack blacks on sight. But this is not an isolated incident. As Keys explains in the film, "white dogs" have been trained to attack black people since slave times, when they were used to find and catch runaway slaves. After that, they were used to track down escaped black criminals. Now, they mostly only exist as personal guard-dogs for people racist enough to train dogs to kill blacks. For me the most horrifying aspect of the film is that there are people out there who would inflict their prejudices on an animal to turn it into a lethal weapon. [***See note at bottom of post for more info on the historical inspiration for the film.]

Director Sam Fuller with one of the dog actors from "White Dog".

Keys takes on the challenge of rehabilitating Julie's dog. He tells her he has made two attempts to retrain white dogs in the past, but both were unsuccessful, and both dogs had to be put down. He warns her that if he's unsuccessful with the reconditioning, he will have to shoot the dog himself. Julie reluctantly agrees, desperate to keep her dog from causing any more harm to blacks.

Julie asks how it is possible to train a dog to hate black skin. Keys explains that dogs experience the world visually. A racist can find a desperate black person and pay them to ritualistically beat puppies, the younger the better. These dogs will be gradually conditioned to hate and fear black skin to the point that they will viciously attack it with no provocation. Unlearning this racist conditioning can be dangerous too, as the dogs can snap under the pressure of reconditioning and become dangerous to people of any skin color.

Keys gradually breaks the dog's spirit with an exhaustive training regimen designed to teach the dog that it does him no good to attack black people. In leather pads, Keys spars with the dog, gradually earning its trust. When the dog escapes and kills another African-American, Keys and Julie must seriously reappraise their mission. Is it worth retraining a racist dog, or is the best option to kill it? Aren't the people who stand by and allow racism to happen partially responsible for it? Is it possible to cure racism, or foolhardy to even try?

I give "White Dog" an enthusiastic 10/10. It's a fantastic social commentary on racism, and features some of the most impressive animal performances ever committed to film. The cinematography is simple but elegant, and the acting is solid all around. "White Dog" also features a beautifully tense score by the amazing Ennio Morricone (who is most famous for scoring John Carpenter's "The Thing", Oliver Stone's "U-Turn" and Sergio Leone's "Fistful of Dollars" trilogy). Overall, "White Dog" is a somber and pessimistic film that poses questions about racism that are as relevant today as they were in 1982.













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[***Historical Note: The Criterion edition of "White Dog" comes with several essays on the film in a booklet. One of these essays describes another bit of inspiration for the film that I found fascinating: In WWII, German Axis forces would train German Shepherds to sniff out Allied troops based on smell (differences in diet, etc.). They would paint the dogs' backs white and send them out at night to "point" to Allied soldiers' encampments. The Allies would not fire on the dogs, thinking them to be harmless. The Germans would then bomb the areas the dogs pointed to, wiping out the enemy without risking any of their own soldiers.]